


The Pen and the Sword

by zeba_rosebud_girl



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confession, M/M, everyone knows they’re in love except them, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeba_rosebud_girl/pseuds/zeba_rosebud_girl
Summary: The scene in Fangirl where Cath reads The Outsiders to Levi, except it's Baz reading Wuthering Heights to Simon.“How do you tell a stranger that you feel like a villain? That you feel that being with Simon Snow would be like the moon falling in love with the sun? A vampire falling in love with the Chosen One. 

     Baz can speak four languages, millions of combinations of words, and yet in this moment, he can’t think of a single one that would be good enough.Good enough.I don’t think I’m good enough. I think that I don’t deserve him. That I don’t deserve anyone. And it hurts me even more that he wants me now. Because how fucked up do you have to be to have the love of your life right in front of you, asking for you, and the only thought in your mind is ‘run. Save yourself.’”Simon Snow has never been particularly good with words. And his current English assignment is bringing this fact more and more to the forefront of his mind and making him irritable. So much so that it catches Baz's attention. In the hopes of making Simon less hostile, Baz offers to read to Simon. After some complaints, he accepts. After all, not much can change in a day. Can it?
Relationships: Penelope Bunce/Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	The Pen and the Sword

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for deciding to read my story. And thank you to my friend Elizabeth for being my first reader. You're great. I hope you enjoy your stay here at the Zeba Hotel of Literature and Yearning. Go forth and look upon the Snowbaz. :)

**Simon**

Simon Snow has never been great at reading. Or even great with words in general. He’d be the last person to admit it, but it’s a fact that insists on over complicating his already devastatingly complex life. The words blur together, and even when he can manage to read a whole paragraph, he more often than not has to read it three to four times before he can fully grasp it. 

But that’s fine. That’s never made Simon feel too bad. Intellectual things come harder to him than they come to others, so what?

“I bet none of those _intellectual types_ could even _lift_ a sword if they _tried_ ,” he said once after throwing a pencil across his room. Penny had been trying to help him with his Algebra homework and he had had no clue what was happening on the page. 

Penny sighed. “Don’t get discouraged, Simon. Come on, you’re almost there. You just need to factor.” 

With Penny’s help, he could usually at least muddle through most of his schoolwork. 

But not today. Or any of the days for the past week, it seemed. 

He doesn’t know why, but reading _Wuthering Heights_ is hell on earth. He has been trying to read daily for a week, for hours each day, to no avail. He’s on page three. 

He had asked Penny for help, but it hadn’t done much. 

“Pen? Have you read Wuthering Heights?” They had been in his room, and she was reading a book (for fun. Because Penny is the kind of person who does that. Simon would rather single-handedly fight off a horde of worsegers. _That_ would be fun. Not reading) at the head of his bed while Simon was curled up at the end, pulling at his hair and trying and failing to muddle through the damned book. 

She looked up. “Hmm?” Then, she looked at the cover of Simon’s book. “No. All I know about it is that it’s a romance novel about some dude named Heathcliff... I think. Why are you reading it?”

Simon had groaned and rolled over into his back, dropping the book on the bed. “English,” he’d muttered into his arm. “But I wouldn’t say I’m reading it. I haven’t gotten past the third page.”

“Then keep reading.”

“I’ve been reading it for seven days straight.” 

“Boring?”

“No. Mind melting. It’s like it’s written in another language.”

He had moved his arm from his face to look at Penny. She was frowning at him a bit. He recognized it as her “whatever should I do with Simon?” face. 

“Read the SparkNotes,” she finally said. 

He groaned again. “Professor Lavender can _always_ tell when you use the SparkNotes. I don’t know how. Maybe she uses a spell or something.”

Then it was Penny’s turn to groan. “Or she’s been a teacher for so long that she has a sixth sense for kid’s who are mucking around. There isn’t a spell for everything, Simon.”

Yet another groan, from Simon this time. 

“I _know_ ,” he pulled his hair and went back to trying to read the book. 

That had been two days ago. Penny was of no help, and Simon had no other friends who he felt comfortable going to with his problem. He could be proud sometimes. 

But it never helped him out. 

He has a test on _Wuthering Heights_ tomorrow and he hasn’t read any further than _three pages_ , for Merlin’s sake. 

But, he never gives up on a fight, and that’s how he’s started to view reading this book. He’s going to finish reading it today if it’s the last thing he does.

He rushes so quickly through his breakfast that Penny actually puts her hand on his arm when he starts to stand up. “Hey,” she says. “What’s wrong? You’ve hardly eaten. Where are you going?” 

“Up to study. I’m fine. Bye for now.” He pats her on the shoulder and practically runs up to his tower. 

Once in his room, he walks to his desk and stares at the book that’s lying on top. He doesn’t sit down. He just stares at the cover. He places his hands on his hips and squints his eyes, hoping that he looks menacing. 

“Listen here, _punk_ ,” he says under his breath. “I’m the superior here. I _will_ win this fight. Try and stop me.” Then, he pulls out his desk chair with as much force as he can muster and picks up the book. 

**—-**

**Baz**

Snow is going insane. And this seems fair enough to Baz, considering that Snow has been the chief cause of his rapid descent into madness for the last nearly seven years. 

For at least a week, Baz has noticed Snow acting increasingly more erratic. First it was just him being a little more twitchy than usual. Then carrying a book with him _absolutely everywhere_ ( _Wuthering Heights_. This makes sense. They're reading it in English. What doesn't make sense is Snow’s apparent obsession with picking it up and staring at it so intensely that Baz can almost read the violently angry thoughts going through his head playing across his face in real time. Heathcliff’s a dick, sure, but Baz doesn’t think the book warrants such intense virulence.). Then not sleeping. Then simply _radiating_ angry magic in every direction. It quickly turned into much too much, and Baz is incredibly pissed off. 

Well, more pissed off than he is on a regular day to day basis, which is already a pretty high amount of pissed off. 

It isn’t fair. Baz feels like he suffers enough as it is by simply having to be roommates with the annoyingly _heroic_ Snow. 

Crowley, he’s so _heroic_. It’s definitely number one on “Things I Hate About Snow; A List”. 

His _heroic_ hair. 

His _heroic_ eyes. 

His stupidly _heroic_ bloody muscles. 

Baz hates it. He hates what it does to him. He hates that whenever Snow is in the same room as him, he can hardly keep his eyes off of him. He hates how much he cares. 

So when Baz is walking up the stairs to their tower after breakfast and hears a loud _thud_ from inside their room, his first thought is _Well. This is it. He’s finally gone 100% mental and beaten his own head in. Farewell, Snow. It was terrible knowing you._

When he opens the door and sees Snow with his head in his hands, pulling violently at his hair and emanating so much angry magic that Baz almost falls over, it simply confirms his fears. _Snow really has gone insane_ , he thinks. Then his eyes move to the opposite end of the room from Snow and land on _Wuthering Heights_ , which has quite obviously just been thrown violently and is lying open, cover side up. 

He stands in the doorway for a second, before Snow whips his head up and _growls_ at him “ _What_?” he hisses. 

“I’m just standing in the doorway. To _my_ room. It’s not my fault that _you’ve_ gone completely insane. So try not to go all psycho Chosen One on me,” he snarls back. It’s an instinct. It’s the only way that they know how to communicate with each other: bitter, angry arguing. 

“ _I’ve_ gone insane?” Snow yells, standing up quickly. “ _You’re_ the the bloody insane one, what with your... your...” he trails off. Then he puts his face back in his hands and drops into his chair. “It’s no use. No matter what I say. I’m still an idiot who’s going to fail English and we’re still going to hate each other just as much as we already do. Ughhhh. I hate this. I give up.” 

Baz is extremely taken aback. He can’t figure out whether or not he’s just been insulted in Snow’s little rant. Instead of saying anything of much substance, it turns out it’s his turn to say “what?” Except he doesn’t hiss it. He says it quietly. Like it’s the only word he can find for miles.

Snow sighs. “Nothing.” He sighs again. “Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all that’s left in my brain now ughhhh.”

Baz leans down to pick up the book and holds it out to Snow, the cover facing him. “Why are you so obsessed with this book? I know we’re studying it in English, but for some reason it’s made you really pissy lately. And if you’re using it as some kind of tool to help you plot my demise, it’s my right to know.” 

Snow rolls his eyes. “I’m not using it to plot your demise, you numpty,” he says. “I’m just... reading it, okay? I’m reading it for class. Like you said.”

Baz raises one eyebrow. “Really? And is Heathcliff the reason you’re all bothered lately? Are you just really passionate about the book?” He sounds very incredulous. That’s because he is. He knows Snow well enough to be certain that there’s something he isn’t telling him.

Snow gulps. “Not exactly... it’s... well, I’m bloody well not gonna tell you why I’m like this, am I? We’re nemeses and all that.” 

Baz doesn’t know why, but this makes him laugh. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane with all of this moping. And all of your magic leaking everywhere. It’s _very_ irritating. So, _that’s_ why you’re going to tell me. Tell me why Emily Brönte has you so vexed.” Baz doesn’t know why he’s doing this. He’s still standing near the door. It’s closed behind him. And he’s having a mostly civil (well, civil for them) conversation with Snow. It feels unnatural. 

Snow looks up. At first he looks like he’s going to bite Baz’s head off, but then he casts his eyes down. “I can’t read it,” he mumbles. 

At first Baz thinks he didn’t hear him properly. “You... can’t read it?” He says. 

Snow looks frustrated. Angry. “ _Yes_ , that’s what I said. You don’t have to be such an ass. God, I wish I hadn’t told you that.” 

“I’m not being an ass.”

“ _Yes_ , you are. You’re being an ass like you always are, and now you’re going to make me feel like an idiot and never let me forget this. Ughhhhh.” 

Baz looks at Snow, who’s head is back in his hands. He still doesn’t know why he’s doing this. Why he’s trying to be nice to Snow. “What do you mean you can’t read it?” He says it in the softest, kindest voice he can muster. It’s a voice he hardly ever uses, and one he certainly never imagined he’d use with Snow. 

He looks up. He looks just as confused as Baz feels. There’s a small pause before he answers the question. Baz has no clue why he decides to do so. He should just yell at him. That’s how they work. “It’s like... all of the words blur together. Like, I’m reading it but not really, you know? I can’t understand what’s happening.”

“Does that happen a lot when you read?” Still surprised that they’re having a normal, one may even say heartfelt (Baz wants to barf at that word) conversation. 

“Not all the time. Some books are harder than others. But this one is impossible. I’ve never read one so bad.”

“So how do you usually read the hard books?”

“I get the audiobook. But for some reason I couldn’t find the audiobook for _this_ cursed one. I guess they couldn’t even find a _voice actor_ who wanted to read it, either.”

Baz tries hard not to roll his eyes. He tries hard not to let his heart go insane at the fact that he and Snow are talking like this. Then he opens up the book. “What page are you on?”

Snow’s head is back in his hands. “Three,” he grumbles. 

Baz takes the opportunity to roll his eyes, while Snow isn’t looking. He’ll start from the beginning, then. He sits down on his bed, which is diagonal from Snow’s desk. 

“I have just returned from a visit-"  he starts reading, but Snow cuts him off immediately. 

His head jerks up. “What are you _doing_?” He snaps, the anger back in his voice. 

Baz tries not to gulp. He tries his best to seem like this _is not_ affecting him _at all_. “Reading. If you reading this book will mean the end to you acting completely deranged, I’ll read it to you. Also, it’ll help me review.” He tacks that onto the end. Just in case he’s sounding a little _too_ nice. He feels the friendly- no, not friendly. Just less serrated than usual. Like a butter knife instead of a saw- dynamic that they had been using slipping away quickly. 

Snow’s face is red when he responds. He looks pissed. “Oh my _god_ ,” he says, pulling at his hair. “I’m not _five_. I should have never told you all that. I’m so stupid.” He pulls his book from Baz’s hands, opens the door and leaves the room.

Baz sighs. 

So much for being friendly. So much for thinking that Snow would ever view him as anything more or less than a foe. 

_Stupid_ , Baz thinks, lying down on his bed. 

—

**Simon**

Simon is furious. _Who does Baz think I am? Does he think he’s that much smarter than me? Does he think I’d just let him treat me like a child? Oh, he‘d love that. He’d love to have that over me._

Simon doesn’t know where he’s going. At first he was just kind of walking angrily through the school. Now he’s outside, kicking the ground and pulling at his hair. He feels stupid. Worse, he feels like Baz has insulted him. He hates that. He hates when people make him feel less than. He hates that he cares so much. 

After a good fifteen minutes of kicking, he sits down against a tree and opens the book. It takes him all of five minutes to get fed up and throw the book down. It feels good to throw it, but it doesn’t achieve anything. He hasn’t read anymore than he already had. It’s infuriating. He would much prefer it if a goblin would jump out of the Wavering Wood at this exact moment and try to assassinate him...

“Heya, Simon!” He jumps, startled out of his gory thoughts of disemboweling goblins. Then he sees Ebb, standing across the lawn from him, surrounded with goats, waving. 

He smiles to her and waves back, grabbing the book as an afterthought before he stands up and goes over to Ebb. 

When he gets to her he greets her with “heya, Ebb, how are you?” 

“Not too bad, Simon. Not too bad. One of the goats is going to give birth soon.”

“That’s nice,” he’s grinning. He hasn’t talked to Ebb in a while. And he’s happy to have any distraction from _the book_ and annoying, patronizing _Baz_. 

“Whatcha up to, Simon?”

“Oh, you know, just...” he holds up the book, “reading, you know?”

Ebb wrinkles her nose. “Not the way you’d like to spend your Sunday, though?”

“Definitely not. It’s for English. I’d rather do anything _but_ read it, if I’m being honest.” His brain wanders back to the goblin disemboweling. 

She takes the book and opens it, riffling through the pages for a second before handing it back. “Well, good luck. You better get back to studying, huh?” 

Simon sighs. “Yeah, probably. Good seeing you, Ebb.”

She gives him a little smile (Ebb’s smiles are few and far between and they’re always _little_ smiles, nothing too big or showy) and then starts walking towards her cabin. The goats follow. 

He sits down right where he’s standing and riffles through the book like Ebb just had. 

“ _Reading_ ,” Baz had answered him. Like it was a normal thing for him to do, for him to read an entire book out loud to Simon. He sits there, thinking of the conversation he and Baz had had. 

“It _would_ be helpful, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath, kicking the grass. “I _do_ have a test tomorrow. I _will_ fail terribly if I don’t read the book. It’ll be mutually beneficial, yeah? He said it’ll help him study.” He kicks the grass. “Crowley... I’m sitting out on The Great Lawn and talking to myself. Studying with Baz couldn’t be worse than this. Could it?”

Through the doors. Through the halls. Up the stairs. Straight into his room, to stand in front of the vampire he calls his roommate and ask him for study help. 

Baz cackles. “No.”

“Why? You’re the one who offered.”

“Well, being away from you for thirty minutes gave me time to contemplate how much of an arse you are. So, no. I won’t subject myself to hours alone with you. Go be a lunatic elsewhere, I’m studying for Elocution.” 

Simon growls. “Come _on_. It’ll help you, too, yeah? And I won’t tell anyone you were nice to me. Just help me. This once. And I’ll never ask again. You know this will be as painful for me as it will be for you.”

“I never said anything about being _nice_...” Baz grumbles, playing with his pen. “And you’re wrong about that pain part. It’ll be at least twice as painful for me. I definitely hate you _at least_ twice as much as you hate me.” 

Simon rolls his eyes. 

Baz scowls at him. “Fine. Give me the bloody book. This _has_ to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Simon is grinning as he hands Baz the book. “ _Thank you_ ,” he says. 

Baz winces. “Ugh. Don’t. That just sounds wrong coming from you. I think if we’re too nice to each other, the universe might explode.” 

Simon sits on his bed. “Read, scoundrel,” he says, kicking Baz’s chair for emphasis. 

Baz sneers at him. “Just don’t talk.”

Simon puts his hands up. 

“I have just returned from a visit to my landlord- the solitary neighbor that...” 

_This’ll be a long day_ , Simon thinks, settling down on his stomach and facing Baz.

—-

**Baz**

Snow is distracting. Snow is _very_ distracting. He can’t sit still. He changes positions every five minutes. Twice already, Baz has had to tell him to stop when he started loudly tapping on his bed frame. 

They’ve only been at this for two hours, which is honestly a long time to be reading aloud, but Baz doesn’t mind. He likes reading, and, more than that... he doesn’t want Snow to leave. 

He never really wants Snow to leave. He’s mean to him and yells and bites his head off, but he never really wants him to go away (which is weird. Baz knows that. He’s disturbed. Ask anyone). 

This is the longest time, aside from sleeping, that they’ve ever been alone together. Baz knows it means nothing, that Snow is just using him, but he can’t help feeling a little flustered ( _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , Baz thinks whenever he looks up at Snow for a fraction of a second and can’t stop imagining how nice it would be to put his hands in his curls). 

After three hours of reading, Baz puts the book down. 

Snow had been lying on his back with his legs in the air, feet near his pillow and head closer to Baz, and when Baz stops he drops his legs and looks back at him without sitting up. “Why did you stop?”

Baz rolls his eyes. “I’ve been reading for hours, you numpty.” He stretches his arms above his head. “I need to take a break.”

Snow rolls over into a sitting position, criss-cross. “Oh. Yeah. I lost track of the time.” He stretches, too.

Baz gives Snow a bit of a look. “So, is this easier for you?”

Snow looks at him, like he’s trying to figure out whether or not that was an insult. He apparently decides that it wasn’t, because he responds simply “yeah. It is. Thanks.” Baz raises an eyebrow and Snow quickly adds “...arsehole.”

Baz huffs a laugh. “I’m going to go and get tea.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He gets up, stretching as he leaves the room. 

—-

**Simon**

Sitting in his room, sipping tea and eating scones, listening to Baz Pitch read aloud to him... not how Simon thought his day would go. 

But, he’s been known to have odd days. And this one isn’t the oddest by far. 

Something that does surprise him is how _pleasant_ this is. Baz has a nice voice. It’s a little posh, but it’s nice to listen to. They’ve been reading for five hours. Simon is fidgeting, but it’s not because he’s bored. It’s just because that’s a thing that he does. He tries to do it less, because he can tell that he’s bothering Baz, who keeps giving him disapproving looks over the top of the book. 

And then when he realizes that he’s _stopped_ doing something that’s bothering Baz, he sits still for a solid five minutes (probably his record) in shock. 

Baz is still sitting in the chair. Simon is still laying on his bed, as close to the edge as he can get, so that he can hear Baz clearly. 

Baz stops reading and starts rubbing his back. “I don’t think I’ve sat for this long... ever,” he says. “Remember, I’m suffering far more than you in this ordeal, Snow.”

Simon laughs. “If your back is hurting, just lay down.” He gestures to himself lying on his bed, no back pain. 

Baz’s face goes slightly red. At least Simon thinks it does. But, he immediately corrects himself. Baz doesn’t _blush_. Must be a trick of the light. 

When Baz doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Simon raises an eyebrow and says “on your bed, now. Come on, don’t be so bloody proud. It’ll help.”

Baz shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “I don’t need to,” he says after a moment. 

“Then don’t complain about your back.”

“I’ll stop reading to you, you arse.”

“Sit on the bed.”

“I’m fine.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Baz.”

He reaches out and nudges Baz’s knee with his hand. Baz gives him a dirty look. “Goooooo,” Simon says, exasperated. 

Baz looks at him strangely. He gets up and lays on his bed, facing Simon, legs hanging off one side. Simon readjusts his position so that he’s facing him. 

“I just want you to know that I hate you,” Baz says, narrowing his eyes at Simon before opening the book. 

Simon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep reading.”

—-

**Baz**

Baz knows this doesn’t mean anything, but the more time goes on, the more distinctly aware he becomes of just how much he wishes it did.

Sitting in the chair felt just alright. Just formal enough. Just the right amount of apathy. Just the right amount of “I’m disgusted by you and definitely have not vividly imagined what it would be like to make out with you on several occasions.” 

That’s why he had been so hesitant to move. And now here he is, lying on his bed that’s all of two feet away from Snow’s, leaning over one side. Facing him. So close he could reach out and touch him if he wanted to. No. Not just if he _wanted_ to, because he definitely already does. If he could bring himself to. If he could see any possible scenario where Snow wouldn’t pull out his sword and put him out of his misery right then and there, Anathema be damned. 

He tries to focus very intensely on the book, and ignore the very distracting Simon Snow just in front of him. 

His voice is starting to hurt, and it cracks every once in a while. “I need to sit up,” he says. He closes the book and leans against his headboard. He looks over at Snow. He’s still on his stomach, and he’s looking at Baz. “What?” He snaps. He doesn’t really mean to. It just comes out that way naturally. 

Snow gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging over. “Okay, so I know that we have this intense mutual hatred and that I’m not allowed to thank you, but... just thanks, okay? I don’t even think Penny would be willing to do this for me. It’s just very nice, and I get that that probably means that you hate doing it. So I’m sorry about that, but yeah. I really appreciate this. Thank you,” he rushes this all out, then pauses for a moment before smiling and saying, “wow, look. The universe didn’t explode.” 

Baz is silent for a moment. _What just happened_? He thinks. He just nods and goes back to reading. But on the inside he’s freaking out. Oh, is he ever freaking out. To be hopelessly in love with Simon Snow. Crowley, what a bloody tragedy. 

—-

**Simon**

“What was that last line? I can’t hear you.” Simon says this while leaning over the edge of his bed to get closer to Baz. _Closer to Baz_. Nicks and slicks, he never thought he’d actually _try_ to do that. What a day it’s been. 

Baz clears his throat. “I’m losing my voice. I’ve been reading for hours.” He starts massaging the back of his neck. His voice is low and gravelly. Simon quite likes it. 

“Well, I can’t hear you. Come over to my bed, we’ll be closer and it’ll help.”

Baz freezes. “ _What_? I’m not doing that.”

“Why not? Come on. I can’t hear you anymore, and I know you want that book to be over with just as much as I do. If you keep having to repeat stuff, we’ll never finish. Same goes if you keep arguing.” 

“I’m not sitting on your bed.”

“Okay. Then I’ll sit on yours.”

“You may not,” Baz says as Simon sits on his bed. 

“Move over.” 

“No.”

“Okay, then I’ll just keep sitting this close to you.”

“My life is pain...”

“Stop being a drama queen. Move over.”

Baz moves over. 

He isn’t moving to pick up the book again. “Come on. Aren’t you going to read?”

—-

**Baz**

_Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_. That’s the inside of Baz’s head right now. Right at this moment, with Simon bloody “Chosen One” Snow sitting four inches away from him. He’s really warm. And he smells nice. Like melted butter. And a little sweet, too. Baz feels like he’s getting drunk off of him.

Not that Snow notices. Baz’s voice remains the same. Slowly deteriorating, becoming quieter and quieter as time passes, but still steadily reading along. The book is nearly finished. 

As he turns the pages, he tries hard not to think about what’s happening right now. About how he’ll never have Snow this close again unless they’re fighting. 

He moves like he’s just trying to reposition himself, become more comfortable. 

Three inches away. 

—-

**Simon**

Baz is cold. But that’s not a bad thing. Simon notices that he doesn’t mind. His voice keeps getting huskier and huskier. He turns to watch Baz as he reads. He has thin lips, the palest shade of pink. They move slowly and deliberately around the words as they come out of his mouth. 

Baz closes the book, catching Simon watching him. Simon quickly looks away. 

“The book’s almost done. Only thirty pages left. I’m just taking a break.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Silence. 

Simon: “I’m cold.”

Baz: “I’ll close the window.”

“Isn’t it weird that we’re being so nice to each other?” 

“Hmm?” Baz closes the window and sits back down on the bed. Is he closer than he was before, or is Simon imagining it?

“It’s weird that we’re being so nice to each other, isn’t it?” 

“I told you that I’m not being nice.”

This makes Simon smile. “Yeah, right. You’re being well evil right now.”

Baz laughs and Simon joins in. When they’re done, they both look down at their laps. That’s when it fully hits Simon. He’s sitting on Baz’s bed, sharing a laugh with him, and it isn’t half bad. It isn’t really bad at all. 

Baz starts to read again. 

He has nice hair. Nice eyes. 

Simon really likes Baz’s voice like this. 

—-

**Baz**

“...he was just the same as then; only fonder of continued solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in company.” Baz puts down the book. After a second he says, “that’s it. We’ve finished it.” _We’ve_. Baz likes the sound of that. He yawns before turning to look at Snow. 

Snow looks right back at him. 

“Are you tired?” He asks. 

“Yes. I’ve been reading for the past eleven hours.”

“Fair enough.”

Why aren’t they arguing? Why aren’t they saying _anything_? 

Snow eventually breaks the silence. “Well, I guess I’ll just be taking my book back, then...” he reaches across Baz’s lap for the book. Baz holds his breath. Snow’s shoulder brushes against his chest. He can feel his muscles shifting under his shirt. 

_What are you, an eighteenth century gentleman seeing a lady’s ankles for the first time? Stop. This shouldn’t be affecting you so much. He’s barely touching you._

As he’s leaning back over Baz, he stops. Just in front of Baz’s face. Their eyes lock. Blue into grey. Blue into adoring, wanting grey eyes. Baz feels it. He knows that Snow has to feel something, too. Baz wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so badly right now. Kiss his soft, red lips. His tawny skin. 

They’re so close. Snow’s lips couldn’t be more than two inches away from Baz’s. He’s so warm and Baz wants him so badly. Baz starts to lean in.

That’s when Snow jumps off of the bed. “I... I told Penny I’d meet with her. I need to go.”

He grabs his coat and, with _Wuthering Heights_ , the book recently warmed by Baz’s hands, tucked under his arm, he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Baz slides onto his back, his head falling onto his pillow. He feels dizzy. Like his whole world has been shaken upside down. He’s actually a little bit glad that Snow hadn’t kissed him. He’s very glad that he hadn’t thanked him again. Because if he had, if he’d played with Baz’s soft heart in one more way...

Baz’s universe certainly would have exploded. 

—-

**Simon**

_His eyes. His lips. The way he looked at me._ Simon can’t stop thinking about Baz as he walks through the school grounds. Can’t stop thinking about the thought that had momentarily crossed his mind as he was inches away from him. 

_I want to kiss him_. 

That’s when he had gotten up and left the room. Why did he want to kiss Baz? It made no sense. 

Before he knows it, he’s standing in front of Ebb’s cabin and knocking on the door. He likes to talk to Ebb whenever he’s confused. 

“Simon!” Ebb moves aside for him to walk in. “Seeing you twice in a day... I must be lucky. I should buy a lotto ticket.” She laughs at her joke. Simon knows that Ebb would never buy a lotto ticket. She cares less about money than anyone he’s ever met. 

“Yeah, I’ve missed seeing you, Ebb.” 

Ebb is busy making them tea. “Oh, you know, we both keep busy. I have the goats, you have the Humdrum.”

Simon smiles. Ebb hands him a cup of tea and some biscuits. 

“So, what brings you here, Simon?”

“I wanted to see you, Ebb!”

Ebb raises an eyebrow. It makes him think of Baz. 

Simon sighs. “Okay. I’m kind of a little bit distressed right now. Not very.” 

“Yeah? What’s bothering you?”

“ _Baz_ ,” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea. 

“That boy gets under your skin a lot, eh?”

Simon nods. “But, that’s just the problem. He was _nice_ to me today. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re distressed because he was nice to you?” 

“I know. It sounds stupid.”

“Explain.”

“It’s like... all we ever do is argue. And he went out of his way to help me today and it was... well, it was nice, yeah? And now it’s like my world’s been flipped. Hating Baz is a big part of my life.”

Ebb laughs. “Is it now?” 

“Yeah. We’re nemeses and all that.”

Ebb looks like she’s trying to decide whether or not to say something. She leans forward across the wood fire burning between them. Simon is willing to bet that it’s magicked. “Can I tell you something? You need to promise to listen and not get mad right away.”

Simon nods, a bit reluctantly. 

“Baz is in love with you.” 

Simon double-takes so hard that he almost falls off of the crate that he’s sitting on. “W- wait... _what_? Baz is _in love with me_? That’s... that’s...” he laughs. Short, incredulous laughs since he can’t think of anything else to do. “That’s _crazy_ , Ebb.”

She puts her hands up. “I told you not to get mad right away.”

“I’m not mad. That’s just literally impossible.”

“Is it? Because I’m pretty good at this stuff. And I’ve been getting strong love-eyes vibes from Baz to you for years.”

“Even if that’s... if that’s...” he can’t even bring himself to attach the word _true_ to that statement. “What does that have to do with Baz bothering me?”

A small smile from Ebb. Two in a day. Maybe Simon is lucky, too. “I just want you to have that information. It’s about time, anyway. Maybe it will help you figure out why Baz being nice to you has you so... distressed.” 

They’re silent for a long moment. Drinking tea and eating biscuits. Simon is trying to process the information he’s just received. 

_Baz is in love with you._

He can’t be. Baz is terrible to him. 

Then he remembers how people always tell young girls that boys who are mean to them actually like them, and a new wave of confusion runs through him. 

_But that’s not actually true, is it? They just say that to make the girls feel better. Little boys who are mean to girls are just little arseholes._ Except hearing this from Ebb hadn’t made him feel any better. So why had she said it to him?

Because she truly believes it. Ebb wouldn’t tell him something like this unless she thinks it to be true. She knows Simon too well. 

“Thanks, Ebb,” Simon says, standing up. 

“Anytime, Simon.”

He knows what he’s going to do.

—-

**Baz**

“ _ **Into thin air**_!” Baz casts for what must be the thirtieth time since Snow had fled their room. He needs to learn this spell for Elocution, but for some reason he can’t cast it quite right. Maybe his intonation is off. Maybe he’s just distracted. 

_Distracted._ Yeah, that’s it. Distracted by _Simon bloody Snow_. Because of course. Of course he’d do something nice for Snow and be repaid like this. Be repaid with the inability to think of anything else other than the fact that he was _this close._..

And he ran away. 

—-

**Penelope**

The fact that Baz is in love with Simon is very very obvious to pretty much all people _except_ for Simon. At least Penny thinks so. 

Sure, he goes about it like a seven year old pulling on a cute girl’s pigtails. But Penny sees it. _Has_ seen it since their third year. 

Ever since Simon was ranting to her one day about how he had been catching Baz watching him sleep. Which is super creepy, sure. But then, Simon said, whenever Baz was caught, his face would simply flush and he’d roll over and go to sleep. 

“Probably because he’s ashamed of being such a _scheming bastard_ ,” Simon had said in explanation. But, then it had hit her. Penny would often catch Baz gazing at Simon when he wasn’t looking. But not “I’m going to kill you one day” staring. A sort of longing type (not the “longing to kill you” kind either). Penny had dismissed it. Until she heard Simon say that and something clicked in her mind. 

_Oh Morgana. Oh Merlin. Baz is_ in love with him. 

She didn’t tell Simon. She decided that it was Baz’s thing to tell.

So when he comes to her with a question, she isn’t too surprised. 

—-

**Simon**

Simon is throwing rocks at Penny’s window. He’s doing what he does nine times out of ten when he needs help; when in doubt, ask Penny. 

He throws two rocks, code for “urgent”. Penny is tapping on the window three times within seconds. It’s their code for “I’m coming” (they came up with the code in first year. It’s just a system of taps that they made for when Simon needs to talk to Penny. Phones aren’t allowed on campus and boys aren’t allowed in the Cloisters. Simon still has no clue how Penny gets into Mummers House). 

Simon kicks the grass while he waits the short time it takes for Penny to come down. 

“Simon! What’s so urgent?” She’s running towards him in her pajamas- green fluffy pajama pants and a purple oversized t-shirt. She’s looking him up and down quickly, like she’s trying to make sure he’s whole.

“Um... I have a question I need to ask you. Kind of an odd one.”

Penny sighs. “Is it really _urgent_? Morgana, Simon, I almost fell face first down the stairs I was running so fast.”

“Sorry, Pen. Maybe it’s not urgent. I’m just kinda freaking out.” He scratches his head. His eyes are a bit wild. 

Penny looks concerned. “What is it, Simon?” Her voice has gone soft. 

“So this’ll sound odd...” He lets out a little nervous laugh. “Is Baz in love with me?”

“...” 

“Penny?”

She looks like she can’t quite figure out what to say. Like all of the words have been knocked out of her. “I... um... what? Why are you asking?”

“Ebb told me. But, you clearly agree with _me_ , right? It’s outrageous.”

She starts laughing. 

“What, Penny? What’s funny?” He’s getting frustrated. 

She wipes her eyes. “Simon.” She puts her hand on his shoulder. “Yes. He is.”

He backs up from her and shakes his head a bit. “You agree with her?”

“He’s liked you for a long time, Simon.”

“If you think so, why haven’t you ever told me? Just a simple, ‘heads up, Simon. Baz may be in love with you.’”

She’s wearing a small smile. “Simon...” with her voice that makes him feel five. “I figured it was Baz’s thing to tell you. That if he wanted to, he would do it. And since you weren’t figuring it out yourself, I decided I wouldn’t complicate your life for no reason. Simon, you don’t take change very well.”

“That’s not true...” he grumbles, even though he knows that it is. 

“Well... how are you taking this information?”

Simon sits down in the grass and puts his head in his hands. He feels Penny sit down next to him. 

“I’ve spent the whole day alone with him.”

“Oh?” 

Simon gives her a look. “Not like that.”

Penny laughs a bit. “Okay. No comments from me. Keep going.” She gives him two thumbs up. 

“You know that book I was having a hard time with?”

She nods. 

“Well... he kind of offered to read the whole thing to me out loud.”

Penny looks like she wants to say something, but she holds it in. 

“Anyway, I said yes and he spent hours and hours reading it to me. Towards the end, he was losing his voice. So, I sat down on his bed next to him and... and..” he looks over at Penny. “When we were that close, I really wanted to kiss him, Penny.” He looks away and starts biting his fingernails. “And it was so weird. It was so weird that I ran out of the room immediately after he finished the book.” He lifts up _Wuthering Heights_ , which has been resting on his lap.

“Permission to speak?”

Simon huffs out a laugh. “You’ve never asked me that question before.”

“Well?” She says, laughing a bit with him. 

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing weird or wrong with you wanting to kiss Baz.”

Simon looks at her. “How? We’ve hated each other since we were eleven.”

Penny raises an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, we’ve established that Baz likes you.”

“No, we’ve established that two people _think_ he likes me.”

Penny rolls her eyes. “Just work with me here. If Baz doesn’t hate you, that kind of breaks the whole ‘mutual hatred’ thing that you’ve got going. It’s a big part of your life, I get that, but forget about it for a second. Forget that every thought of Baz in your head since you were eleven has been seen through a filter of animosity. 

“Simon. If you forget all of that. If you get rid of that filter, where does that leave you? Does the thought of Baz really piss you off? Or does it just make you feel uncomfortable? Probably for a reason you can’t quite understand, right? Maybe you’re using ‘I hate Baz’ as an excuse to avoid dealing with the truth.”

Simon groans. “What’s the truth, Penny? Really, I’d like to know what this thing is that even my own brain is keeping from me.”

She waits a second before replying. “That you like Baz, too, Simon.” She puts her hand on his arm. “And that’s okay.”

He looks up at her. “But is it really? It doesn’t feel okay.” His voice is soft. 

She smiles. “Yes, Simon. It is.”

“Does liking Baz mean that I’m gay?”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Simon?”

“Not really,” he admits. 

“Anyway, you don’t need to figure out your sexuality right now. You have your whole life for that.”

“I guess. But, I mean... I’m probably not _all the way_ gay, right? I had that crush on Agatha in fourth year, and-“

She laughs a bit, cutting him off “Thank Merlin you got over that. You two are _much_ better as friends.” 

He nods, agreeing entirely. “Yeah, but what is that called? When you’re into both guys and girls?”

“It’s called being bisexual.”

He says the word under his breath once. “Huh.”

“Well? Is there anything else? I need to get back to my Astronomy homework.” She’s smiling. Simon knows she’s only partially joking. She’d sit out here all night with him if he needed her, but since this conversation seems to be over, she would much rather get back to work than sit out here with Simon in silence. 

He stands up and then holds out his hand to help Penny up. He gives her a hug. “Thanks, Pen.”

“Anytime, Simon. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Love you, too, Pen.”

—-

**Baz**

The door opens slowly, and Baz jumps. 

“Hey,” Snow says. 

Baz keeps doing his work (Calculus. He’d realized after coming back from the catacombs a few minutes ago that he can’t do spell work with so much on his mind). He acts like he hasn’t heard Snow enter the room. Really, it’s the only thing he can focus on. His pen has stopped moving across the page.

Snow sits down on his desk chair and slides it over so that he’s only about a foot away from Baz. 

“I’m sorry that I ran out like that.”

Baz is trying and failing to focus on his math homework.

“I’m really bad at stuff like this. You know, talking. Getting people to understand what’s really going on in my mind. In the right way. My thoughts always come out all muddled.”

No response. Baz can’t. He can’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what Snow’s going to say, but he knows that he doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I understand if you’re mad at me. I was an arse. I shouldn’t have ran out-“

Baz finally spins around to face him. “Why would I be mad that you left? I would’ve been happy if you’d never come back, honestly.”

Snow winces like he’s been slapped. 

_Good._

Baz’s stomach twists. Does Snow want to be his friend? Baz knows he couldn’t take that. It would be worse than pretending to hate him. Because at least that has some truth in it. He definitely hates the way that Snow makes him feel. Soft. Vulnerable.

“Okay...” Snow bites his lip. Like he’s trying to find the right words to say and it’s proving very difficult. “I... I... okay.” He clears his throat. “Ahem. I...”

“Spit it out or stop wasting my time, Snow.” Oh Crowley. Baz may actually cry right now. He hasn’t done so in a while, and he would die of embarrassment if he did, but there’s a dry feeling in the back of his throat. Bloody Simon Snow. Baz hates him. He really does. 

Snow closes his eyes. 

“What would you say if I told you that I like you?” He opens his eyes, then closes them again and says. “You know, like, _like_ like you. Like that. Oh Christ, I probably said like too much in that sentence, look, I...” Snow trails off and looks at his lap, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Baz is frozen. 

_What?_

Surely Baz hasn’t heard him correctly. 

He’s daydreamed about this a hundred different ways. Snow confessing to him. He feels outrageously stupid whenever he does, but sometimes it just happens. His mind wanders, and it finds Snow. He’s always there, never straying too far from the center of his thoughts.

But now it’s _really happening_ and he doesn’t- 

“I would say that you’re crazy,” he blurts out, straight at the wild eyed Snow. 

Snow looks hurt. _Crap, crap, crap. That wasn’t right._

But it doesn’t matter, because Snow is just screwing with him, right? And if Baz plays along, Snow will be laughing with all of his friends tomorrow about how Baz is _stupid_ and _gay_ and _in love with him._ It will be terrible. So he keeps up his icy walls. He decides to wait for a moment alone to melt about this moment. Not in front of Snow. 

“I’m not,” Snow says. “Baz, I’m not crazy.”

“Then why are you messing with me like this?”

“I’m not messing with you, Baz. I promise.” And he looks so sincere. His face is so earnest right now. Baz wants to believe him. He inches his chair closer to Baz. 

“Please, Baz. We’ve known each other for forever. You have to be able to tell when I’m lying and when I’m not.” 

He can. In almost all instances. But Baz doesn’t know if he should be trusted as an unbiased source in this situation. 

—

**Simon**

Simon knows that this is a serious moment. And that there’s still a large chance that Baz will reject him. But right now all he can really think is _Merlin. How did I not notice this before?_ He can’t stop looking at Baz’s hair. And his eyes. And his pale pink lips. Those are especially distracting. 

“Snow. This is ridiculous. You really expect me to listen to you? We’ve hated each other for years. All I did was study with you. And now you’re acting like a madman.”

“But have we really hated each other?” Simon leans toward him, hands on the edges of his chair. 

Baz laughs mirthlessly. “I’ve certainly hated you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Who are _you_ to tell me what _I_ mean?”

Simon is inches away from Baz. “Look at me and tell me that you hate me.” 

Baz looks down. Simon puts his hand on Baz’s knee. Their eyes meet. Baz’s lips part just a bit. 

“I want to kiss you,” Simon says. 

—-

**Baz**

“I want to kiss you.” 

_I want to kiss you._

_ I want to kiss you.  _

_ What? _

“Why?” Baz asks. He’s breathless. It’s embarrassing. 

Snow looks down at his hand, the one that’s resting on Baz’s knee. He looks like the question has confused him quite a bit. “Well... I guess I just _want_ to. I mean, now that I’m thinking about it I guess I don’t really know _why_. There’s a bunch of reasons. Or maybe just a few. I don’t know. Maybe because you’re attractive? Or maybe it’s because-“ 

Baz cuts him off with his lips. He grabs the side of Snow’s head and pulls him closer. 

At first Snow is taken aback, but then he kisses back and puts his hands in Baz’s hair. 

The only thought going through Baz’s head is _Simon Simon Simon. This is real. Crowley, he’s so warm._

—-

**Simon**

Simon is the first one to pull away. He’s grinning when he does. Baz is looking down, blushing. 

Simon puts his hand on Baz’s chin and lifts his head up gently until their eyes meet. “Please tell me you believe me now.”

Baz’s eyes are wide. “I’m not an idiot, Snow. You’ve just slobbered all over me.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Terrible.” He grabs the collar of Simon’s shirt and pulls him in for another kiss. 

_Hell, yes._

—-

**Baz**

Baz wakes up to the sound of Snow moving around their room. As he starts to remember the events of the night before, he can feel his stomach twisting a bit. Anxiety? Yes, but he can’t seem to place what brand it is, exactly. 

He and Snow had kissed for maybe thirty minutes, then they’d just kind of fallen asleep. In Snow’s bed. They were both tired from reading all day, and...

_Crowley, I slept in Snow’s arms._ He feels his face flush. He decides to pretend to be asleep until Snow leaves. 

Once the door shuts, he sits up. 

He looks around the room. Like he’s searching for signs that the world has physically changed in some way. It certainly _feels_ different. But, their tower room looks almost exactly the same as it has every morning for the past six years. 

He decides to take a shower to clear his mind. 

_What has this changed? Are we dating? Or was it just some sort of exception? Does he hate me again? Am I supposed to keep acting like I hate him? How do I know? Why do my insides feel like they’ve melted?_

He leans his head against the cold tile of the shower wall, his brain moving a kilometer a minute. 

_We_ cuddled _. Aleister Crowley, I_ cuddled with _Simon Snow._

He feels a small smile creeping onto his face. 

_Bloody Simon Snow._

—-

**Simon**

He decides to leave as quietly as possible, so as to not wake up Baz. He looks so peaceful when he’s asleep. Simon has never been able to describe him as looking anything other than belligerent when he’s awake. 

Well. 

Except for last night. 

He tries to not think about last night. It’s very hard, but he tries. 

As he speeds down the stairs to breakfast, he realizes he can’t keep the thoughts away. 

_Last night didn’t solve anything, did it? We didn’t even really talk at all. We just kissed. What do we say about all the times we’ve beaten the shit out of each other? All of the fights? Can a kiss erase that? No. It can’t._

He thinks about how he’s supposed to react the next time he encounters a (conscious) Baz. Can he smile? Wave? Or is it back to ignoring and ignoring and ignoring until they explode into a fight?

It’s too confusing. Too much to wrap his head around, especially since he’s planning on using breakfast for some last minute studying for the English test.

Which is no use, because every time he thinks of _Wuthering Heights_ he thinks of Baz. Baz’s voice getting deeper and deeper. His cool, pale skin. 

By the time he gets down to the Dining Hall, he’s done so much mental gymnastics that he’s actually a little exhausted. He quickly piles food onto his plate and sits down next to Penny. 

“Good morning, Pen,” he sighs, immediately starting to butter his toast. 

“Good morning, Simon.” She’s looking at him oddly. “So?”

“Yeah?” He keeps buttering his toast. 

“You know what I mean. _So_?” 

Simon looks up at her. “Can I eat before talking to you about that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but hurry up. I want to know everything. And you still have some studying to do.”

He doesn’t question how she knows. Penny can pretty much read his mind. And she knows everything about him (apparently even the Baz thing, before he did. Sometimes Penny’s mind is scary). 

He finishes his toast. Then he clears his throat and says under his breath “We kissed.”

Penny’s eyes go wide. “What? You did? Oh my gosh, Simon! Your first kiss! How was it? What did you talk about? You did talk, didn’t you? You two have a lot to discuss-“ 

“Oh my God, Penny please stop,” Simon pleads. His face is red. 

Penny frowns. She doesn’t like being interrupted. “It’s my right as your friend to know.”

He sighs. “Yes, I know. But I just... I don’t even know the answers right now, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“You two didn’t talk this morning?”

“He wasn’t awake when I left. I figured he was tired. He read to me all day yesterday.”

“What about last night?”

Simon puts his head down, trying to hide his flushed face. “Like I said. We were both tired.”

Penny nods. “Okay. What are you going to say to him when you see him in English?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking nothing. Like, I’ll probably wait until we’re alone.”

“But do you know what you’ll say?”

“No.”

“Simon-“

“Penny, can I please eat my breakfast?”

She sighs and puts her hands up. 

Simon looks for Baz for the entirety of breakfast. He never shows up. 

—-

**Penelope**

Penny views the relationship she and Simon have as a sort of protective-big-sister-little-brother thing. She always has. It’s her job to take care of him, explain things to him, guide him, etc., etc. 

So when she can’t help him with something, she hates it. 

As she walks Simon to English (her class- Astronomy- is just a few doors down, so they always walk together), he’s silent. She recognizes his thinking face. So Penny just talks and talks about how she knows he’ll do well on this test and other things she knows aren’t helping at all. Penny absolutely abhors feeling unhelpful. 

“Okay, Simon,” she says when they stop at his classroom door. “Good luck on the test.”

He manages a small smile. She knows that his brain is working a hundred miles a minute right now. “Thanks, Penny.” He walks in. 

As she sits down in Astronomy, she can’t stop thinking about Simon. 

—-

**Baz**

Baz makes sure to get to English early so that he and Snow won’t walk in at the same time. He sits a few rows in front of Snow, so he won’t even have to look at him until after class. As long as he doesn’t turn around. He tries to be _very interested_ in what’s written on the blackboard. 

When people start to file in, he keeps his eyes focused straight forward. 

But it’s no use. When Snow walks in, Baz knows. Everyone knows. Snow’s nervous magic is leaking everywhere, getting people drunk. And he turns around. Of course he turns around. _What a disappointment._

Snow sees him watching him, and for whatever reason, Baz can’t pry his eyes away. Until Snow sits down at his desk and winks at him. Then Baz spins around and sits straight forward again, his face red. 

_Did he just_ wink _at me? Crowley, I think he just_ winked _at me._

—-

**Simon**

_Shit shit shit. Abort mission. Abort mission._

He’s just _winked_ at Baz. Christ, that’s lame. That’s really lame. He feels his neck heating up.

He wonders what Baz will gather from that. He doesn’t even know what _he_ meant with it. 

But, he isn’t given much time to dwell on this. Professor Lavender walks in and starts handing out the tests.

He sighs, to clear his mind. _Time to do this._

—-

**Penelope**

“Simon! This is great! Good job!” Penny is smiling as she looks at Simon’s English test, with a big A on the front. 

Simon sighs. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I think Baz is avoiding me.”

She frowns. They’re sitting on the Great Lawn. The weather is lovely and they’re eating sour cherry scones. Simon has just gotten an A grade on a test. He should be smiling and they should be having a great time. Instead he’s moping. 

“Simon, it’s only Wednesday. It hasn’t been that long. Baz is probably just busy.”

“Busy avoiding me.”

He’s been going on about this since yesterday. Claiming that Baz is avoiding him, probably properly hates him now, it’s all his fault, etc. Penny has never thought that Simon’s constant chattering about Baz would develop into the kind that requires her to give him relationship advice, but hey, life is surprising. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“He’s always asleep before I come back to our room and gone before I wake up. He doesn’t go to the dining hall anymore. He goes to pains so that he doesn’t even have to _look_ at me in class. He won’t-“

“Okay, that’s enough. I get the point.” Penny massages her forehead. She doesn’t get it. She knows that Baz likes Simon. And from what Simon has told her, he had at least liked kissing him. So, what's the problem? Why can’t he just be normal and talk to him about it? Why does he need to act like this- creeping around so as to not bump into Simon, diverting his eyes... breaking Simon’s heart. 

See, Penny had been okay with Simon and Baz’s whole mutual hatred thing. It didn’t seem to bother Simon that much. Morgana, he kind of liked it. 

But this is different. 

Simon doesn’t want to be Baz’s enemy anymore. He likes him. He wants to _be with him_. And Baz doesn't seem to care. He's playing with Simon’s feelings and hurting him. 

Penny looks over at Simon, who’s looking into the forest. He has a forlorn look on his face. She furrows her brow. 

People don’t get to mess with Simon and live to tell the tale. Not as long as Penelope Bunce has anything to say about it. 

—-

**Baz**

Baz _is_ busy with a schoolwork. But he’s also been busy avoiding Snow. 

It isn’t something he conscientiously decided to do. It’s just that he realized something very quickly while he was taking his test. He can’t function properly with Snow around. Certainly not with the memory of the kiss fresh on his lips. Certainly not with Snow’s voice saying “I like you” playing on repeat in his head. Not when he keeps thinking about how he hadn’t said it back. Thinking about if he even wants to. 

He’d done terribly on that test. Every time he’d tried to answer a question, he thought of Snow. What he had been doing when Baz had read a specific line that had wound up on the test. What he probably looked like right now, just behind him. 

It was no use. He had B.S.-ed his way through the test and fled the classroom. 

And then he couldn’t bring himself to face Snow for the rest of the day. Because every time he thought about him, he forgot every word he had ever learned. He had no clue what to say. How do you pick up from a make out session after years of fighting and animosity?

Baz is sitting on a tree stump in front of the school. He’s eating a sandwich that he’s scored from Cook Pritchard and doing his Calculus homework. He’s pretty sure that there’s no chance of running into Snow right here right now and being forced to confront his emotions. It’s lunch hour, and there’s no way Snow will miss it. 

It doesn’t take long for his peace and quiet to be broken.

“Why are you avoiding Simon? And don’t even _try_ to ignore me. I want answers.”

Penelope Bunce is standing in front of him, blocking the sun. Her hands are on her hips and she’s frowning. 

Baz’s heart pounds at the mention of Snow’s name, but he remains calm on the outside. “Hello, Bunce. As you can see, I’m quite busy. Perhaps we could talk later.”

“Simon has been moping since Monday. He thinks you’re mad at him. I hate seeing him this way. So, stop being a baby and talk to him.”

Baz’s eyes widen. “Whatever do you mean?”

Bunce rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. I don’t have time for this. Simon is waiting for me in the dining hall. This better be solved by the end of the week, or you’ll have me to answer to.” She gives him a menacing look. “Any questions?”

“You know?” Baz is still hung up on this aspect. He barely heard what Bunce has been saying. He probably should have known that Snow would tell her. 

“Of course. Simon tells me everything.”

“I’m not avoiding him. Well, not exactly,” he says, then immediately regrets it. He isn’t meaning to have a conversation with Bunce, but it’s hard not to once she’s started one with you. He has at least a foot of height on her and is also freakishly vampire strong, so she wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against him (or at least he tells himself that), but she’s still intimidating. Standing in front of him, staring him down. 

Bunce perks up at this. “What do you mean you’re not avoiding him?”

“That’s my business, not yours.”

“Once you drag Simon into something, it becomes my business.” She sits down on the stump next to him, nudging him over. “Tell me.”

Baz can’t believe she’s sitting this close to him, seeing as she believes him to be a vampire. But, he allows it. He isn’t particularly bloodthirsty at the moment, given all the time he’s spent in the catacombs lately so as to ensure he doesn’t run into Snow. 

He gulps, then looks at her. She’s staring him down, and definitely won’t let this go until he gives her something. 

“I just don’t know what to say to him.”

She raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to say more. 

“I don’t know what else you want from me.”

She sighs. “I just don’t get what’s so difficult. Simon _very_ obviously likes you. You obviously like him. Get over yourself and tell him so. I know you’ve been”- she puts her hands up in quotation marks- “‘nemeses’ or whatever for years, but you can work it out. Simon certainly can. He’s a great guy.” She pauses before continuing, making her gaze a bit more menacing. “But, if you feel like you really can’t... talk to him already. Let him know. Stop putting him through this. Simon blames himself for enough as it is, he doesn’t need this to worry about as well.” 

Baz tries to start talking, but stops. He doesn’t know what to say. Bunce clearly cares for Snow very much, and part of him is just in awe of that. 

_What can I even say? How do I even start to explain to her how I feel?_

How does he explain that he’s loved Snow for nearly seven years? How does he tell her how much he means to him? That he’s so good and pure and kind and beautiful that Baz can hardly bare it?

How do you tell a stranger that you feel like a villain? That you feel that being with Simon Snow would be like the moon falling in love with the sun? A vampire falling in love with the Chosen One. 

Baz can speak four languages, millions of combinations of words, and yet in this moment, he can’t think of a single one that would be good enough. 

_Good enough._

_ I don’t think I’m good enough. I think that I don’t deserve him. That I don’t deserve anyone. And it hurts me even more that he wants me now. Because how fucked up do you have to be to have the love of your life right in front of you, asking for you, and the only thought in your mind is “run. Save yourself.” _

He doesn’t notice when the tears start flowing down his face, and when he finally does, it’s too late. Bunce sees him crying. 

“Baz?” 

“I need to leave, Bunce.”

He stands up, trying to collect himself. _So embarrassing. So stupid._

“Baz.” She puts her hand on his arm and he stops. 

“Simon is going to the dance this Friday. You should come, too. He’d love to see you.”

Baz stands there for a second, his mind going a kilometer a minute. Then he shakes her hand off and walks away. 

—-

**Simon**

So, Baz is definitely avoiding him. Simon thinks he knows this for certain now. It’s already Friday, and he and Baz haven’t spoken a single word to each other since Sunday. 

Admittedly, Simon hasn’t put in too much of an effort (he can be a bit of a coward sometimes, even though he’ll never admit to it). But, Baz hasn’t made it easy for him. Avoiding communal areas and their room like the plague, using his freaky vampire powers to speed out of their shared classes before Simon even has a chance to approach him. 

Simon is scared that he and Baz will never be able to talk about that night. And when he thinks about this it confuses him. Not even seven days ago, he would’ve been more than happy to never talk to Baz ever again. Or at least he thinks he would’ve been. Simon is believing more and more in Penny’s theory that he never really hated Baz in the first place. 

Seven years. Sharing a room. Sharing glances. Sharing all of these explosive feelings. 

Today as Simon sits in English, he promises himself that he’ll talk to Baz at the end of class. Penny has been bringing up today’s dance since Wednesday, and he’s a bit antsy. He really wants Baz to be there. 

He gets a little lost in thoughts of dancing with Baz. Holding him. Laughing with him. Kissing him...

The bell rings while Simon’s head is still in the clouds. He jerks his head up to see Baz fleeing the classroom. 

“Baz!” He shouts, jumping a few desks so that he can catch up with him. Pretty much everyone in the room turns their head to look at Simon. Except for Baz. People start to stand around them, probably thinking they’re about to see another legendary Simon-Baz beat down. 

“Baz. Hey, I just want to talk.”

They’re outside of the classroom now. Baz has a lead on Simon. Some people are following them, waiting for the fight to start.

When Simon catches up to Baz- _yes! Finally!_ he thinks- he puts his hand on his shoulder. “Baz. Please. Just one second.”

Baz stops walking and pretty much everyone in the hallway shuts up over the course of a few seconds. The tension in the air is palpable. 

“Okay, now we have an audience. This isn’t how I wanted this to go. Um...” he musses up his hair with the hand that isn’t on Baz’s shoulder. Baz still hasn’t turned around. Simon’s getting nervous. 

“Baz, I just want to say that I-“

He isn’t able to finish the sentence. Baz turns his head and says “I can’t do this, Snow. Not here. Not now” and walks away. Leaving Simon standing in the hallway. All alone, save the eyes of twenty or so people who are quite confused. 

“What just happened?”

“Why aren't they fighting?”

“Did you hear what they were saying?”

“Something like “I can’t do this”, but that can’t be right...”

“Everything alright, Simon?” It’s Kerris. Penny’s roommate’s girlfriend.

He looks up at her- she has a good two inches on him- and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He gives her a little smile and leaves. As if he could explain how he’s feeling right now. 

Unwanted. Yeah, that’s it. He feels more unwanted than he’s ever felt. 

As if he could just say that out loud. 

—-

**Penelope**

“Come on, Simon. Stand still, or I won’t be able to tie it,” Penny says, fiddling with a grey tie around Simon’s neck. 

“Pen, I’m not even sure if I want to go.”

She gives him a look. “What do you mean? Of course you’re going.” She’s wearing a green and purple shalwar kameez and she’s fully ready for a night of eating snacks and watching other people lose their inhibitions. If Simon doesn’t want to go, then she can’t go, and the whole plan will be a bust. 

“Baz won’t even be there.”

“How do you know that? He goes to all of the dances. Why would he miss this one?”

Simon frowns. “Because he basically told me to screw off in the hall today. And he’s been ignoring me all week. And he doesn’t even like me.”

“First off: rhetorical question. Second: he didn’t tell you to screw off. You’re just being dramatic.” She pulls on the tie and smiles. “There, doesn’t it look good? Now, put on your blazer.” 

Simon ignores her, sitting down on his bed and sighing. “Penny, I don’t get it. _He_ kissed _me._ And now he won’t even look at me. Did I do something wrong?”

Penny frowns. “It’s not you, Simon. If he’s too stupid to see how good you are, that’s on him. Don’t you worry.” She pauses and smiles a bit before continuing. “Look; there are absolutely no bad outcomes that could come out of us going to tonight’s party.” She sits down next to him. “Either Baz shows up and you can finally have a proper chat with him, or he doesn’t and you have a great night with your best friend.” She nudges him with her elbow. “Yeah? What do you say?”

He looks over at her, a small smile on his face. “Yeah. Okay.” He slips on his blazer. It’s grey and a bit big on him, but it doesn’t look bad. It suits him. 

—-

**Simon**

When Penny and Simon enter the dining hall, it’s been transformed into a dance floor. Tables full of food and drinks line the walls and students are milling around. 

Some people are dancing. Some awkwardly talking to their crushes. Others standing against the wall, looking as though they’d really rather not be here. 

“Hey guys!” Agatha shouts, coming over to greet them, giving them both hugs. She’s wearing a flowing white dress and her hair is in a complicated and stunning updo. She looks ethereal. Simon doesn’t have a hard time remembering why he used to have a crush on her. 

“Hey, Aggs,” Simon says, smiling. He’s trying to pay attention to his friends, but finding it difficult. His eyes are searching the dance floor, hoping to land on Baz. It doesn’t take him long to realize that he’s not here. Simon frowns, but consoles himself with the fact that it’s quite early and not everyone has arrived yet. 

“You look really good in that dress, Agatha,” Penny says, smiling. 

Agatha smiles, blushing a bit. “Psht, this old thing. You look way better with your...”

“Shalwar kameez,” Penny prompts, smiling back at her. 

“Yes. That. Where did you get it?”

Penny rolls her eyes. “Do you really just want to talk about clothes? This is a party. Let’s talk about something interesting.”

“Clothes _are_ interesting.”

“Yes, well, something _more_ interesting.”

Simon leaves them alone to argue, going to the snack table. He grabs a plate and picks up five scones, then nearly drops it when he turns to face the door. 

Perfectly fit suit. Perfectly styled hair. Merlin, a perfectly perfect face. 

_Baz._

—-

**Baz**

Baz has been going back and forth all day on whether or not to go to the dance. Trying to decide whether or not he was ready to see Snow, to talk to him. Then, that thing in the hallway happened and he figured out that he’s _definitely_ not ready. 

Two hours before the dance, he was in the library, pouring over some books but not actually reading anything. All of his thoughts were focused on Snow. Suddenly, he realized something. 

If he didn’t go to this dance, there was a high chance that he would never be able to talk to Snow about Sunday night. That they would just be like this forever until they graduated and went their separate ways, or worse, they would start fighting again. 

He couldn’t bear thinking about it. 

So, where did that leave him? Keeping with his normal ways- avoiding and avoiding and avoiding until everything exploded. Or taking a chance. Going out on a limb and talking to Snow. Hoping for the best. 

The latter didn’t sound like anything Baz would ever do. But, he settled it. He would go to the dance. And for Crowley’s sake, he would try. 

He went to Dev to ask him for a suit.

“Why do you need one?” Dev asked, already getting ready for the dance. 

“I didn’t bring any with me.”

Dev raised an eyebrow and looked at Baz in the mirror as he fixed his hair. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

Baz groaned. “Because you’re a prick who never believes anyone. Come on, I just need a suit. Isn’t this what family is for?”

“For lending suits?”

“ _Dev_...”

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m just joking with you. Take a suit.”

Baz took a dark green one and a black tie and smiled at his cousin. “Thanks, Dev.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Now, standing in front of the dining hall doors, all the courage from earlier has drained out of him. What will he say? How does he know that what comes out will be the right words?

He eventually sighs and pushes open the doors. 

It doesn’t take him long to notice Snow; he’s standing next to one of the snack tables, gaping at Baz. 

Baz manages a bit of a smile and waves. Snow drops his plate. 

Baz shakes his head a bit and laughs, walking toward him. For a second as he watches Snow scramble to pick up his dropped food, he forgets the nervousness coursing through him. He’s just a teenage boy, going to talk to another teenage boy who probably maybe likes him back. Not that weird, right?

When Baz gets to Snow, he offers up a small smile. “Hi.”

Snow stands there for a second, still and silent. 

Then he starts to laugh. And not just a small laugh. A loud, gasping for air laugh that makes the people around him turn to stare. 

Baz’s stomach twists before Snow finally speaks. “‘Hi’? You avoid me for four days and it’s just ‘hi’?” 

Baz gulps before answering. “Were you expecting something else?”

Snow rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, but Baz grabs his arm. “Snow. Can we please talk?”

“Talk?”

“Yes. Please. Come with me to the ramparts. I think you’ll agree a talk is overdue, right?” He’s trying to sound confident, but on the inside he’s melting. 

Snow hesitates for a moment before saying. “Okay, then. Lead the way.”

They walk side by side, not sharing a single word until they’ve climbed the stairs. They find a place away from the crowds and with a great view of the stars. 

Neither of them talk for a moment. They just stand side by side, leaning over the railing, taking in the twinkling lights of the night sky. 

Snow is the first to break the silence. “So? You said you wanted to talk. Why aren’t you talking?”

Baz looks down, taking a deep breath. Okay. _This is it. Speak now or forever hold your peace_. “You said something. The other day.”

“I said a lot of things.”

“Yes, but you said something specific. That I’ve been thinking about for days. That you’re bad at talking. That your thoughts come out all muddled.”

Snow frowns a bit. Like he’s not quite sure where Baz is going with this. “Yes? And? What has this got to do with-“

Baz cuts him off, thinking he’ll never have the courage to say any of these things if he doesn’t get them out all at once. “Well, like I said, I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Mostly because I realized that... I realized that it’s true for me, too. Maybe even more so for me. 

“Because the thing is Simon, I’m terrible with words. I use them like weapons. They come out of my mouth serrated, no matter how soft they are when they’re living inside of me. I’ve always been like this. I’ve always hated it. Hated myself for it.” He closes his eyes before continuing. 

“But you, Simon... you’re not bad at all. And even if you are, you’re good at actions. You’re good at expressing yourself like that. Showing people that you care, that you’re really there. At being a good, pure, honest person. Not me. I’m terrible at all that.”

He looks up Simon, wondering what he’s thinking.

“And when you kissed me...” he lets out a sigh. “It scared me, Simon. It really did. Because you’re so alive.” He smiles. “And I’m... well, I’m nowhere close. I’m scared that I’m not good enough. Or that maybe I’m just too different. I just... if I can’t even understand myself, how can you understand me? How can you even try? And why would I put you through that?”

He closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry. 

“I’m sorry, Simon. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for everything. I know those words don’t mean much. But, I just... I just want you to know something. I need to be able to know that you’ve heard me say this.”

He looks directly into Simon’s eyes. Just to make sure he’s listening. Just to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

“I love you, Simon Snow. I’ve loved you for nearly my whole life. I know that that can’t erase the fights. The years and years of sharp edged words. But it’s true. And I hope with all my heart that that’s enough for...” 

He looks down. _Enough for what?_

_Enough for you to want me. To say yes to me. To need me the way I need you._

“Baz?”

Baz jerks his head up, his face flushed from the cool night air and the fountain of warm words that have just sprouted from his heart. 

His face gets even more warm when Simon, grinning from ear to ear, puts his hand on his cheek. “You called me Simon,” he whispers, pulling Baz in for a kiss.

The kiss is soft and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes Baz feel like it was worth waiting seven years. Like it would’ve been worth waiting a lifetime. 

As he kisses Simon, both of them smiling and touching each other’s faces, almost as if they’re trying to make sure the other is really there, he feels like they must be shining as brightly as the stars above them. 

_Simon Snow, you’re so alive. You took my share of it, and more. When I’m with you, I feel like it’s mine again. No, like it’s ours._

_ Simon Snow, you make me feel alive.  _

_ Alive, alive, alive.  _

—-

**Simon**

When they walk down the stairs, they’re holding hands. Almost everyone stares at them, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters to Simon right now. 

Except for Baz, who is holding his hand and smiling. Baz who just told him he loves him. 

When Simon finds Penny and Agatha, they’re sitting on a couch and arguing about which Disney movie is the best while sharing a giant bowl of salt and vinegar crisps. 

“Mulan is an icon who can’t be contended with. She outperforms all of the men in her camp _and_ saves all of China. _Sleeping Beauty_ does not even _compare_ ,” Penny says, stuffing a handful of crisps into her mouth. 

Agatha rolls her eyes. “Aurora is cool. Her love interest is better than Li Shang, anyway.”

“ _Oh_ , don’t you even-“ Penny cuts herself off when she finally notices Simon and Baz. Her eyes flick down to their interlocked hands and she grins. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey!” Simon says, sitting down and smiling over at Baz. He smiles back, a little timidly. _Christ, he’s adorable_ , Simon thinks. 

He notices Agatha looking at them a bit weird, but Penny shoots her a look and she stops immediately.

Just as Penny is about to say something, the song changes and she perks up. “Oh my gosh! This is the best song ever! Get up, guys, we have to dance!” 

Simon looks to Penny, then Baz, then shrugs and stands up. 

Baz stands up after him but says, “no, Snow. There’s no way I’m dancing. Not in a million years.”

Simon smiles. “Hey, come on. You called me Simon before.”

Baz’s face flushes and Simon puts one hand around his waist, lifting up their hands that are already interlocked. 

He looks over at Penny, who is dancing with Agatha. They’re spinning around and seem to be having a good time. Simon makes a mental note to ask her about that later. 

Now he focuses his full attention on Baz. The song is much too fast to slow dance to, but they do so anyway, moving slowly in circles around the dance floor. They keep making eye contact for short periods of time before nervously looking away, until Baz just lays his head on Simon’s shoulder. 

Simon smiles and puts his face in Baz’s hair. The gentle swaying and the loud feelings in his heart, mixed with the loud music and the feel of Baz against him... it feels amazing. He’d be stupid not to admit that. 

“Is this good?” Simon whispers, rubbing Baz’s back a little. “Or am I an awful dancer?”

Baz looks up, smiling. “Oh, you’re definitely an awful dancer. But, this is great.”

They both laugh, then Simon leans in to kiss him. They’re still kissing well into the next song, and they don’t care. Because they’re young and jubilant, and they have each other. 

What a way to be. 

The rest of the night is spent sharing laughs with Penny and Agatha. Dancing with each other, dancing with the girls. Lots of smiling. Lots of feeling like this is just _right._ Could never not be right. 

At the end of the night, as Simon, Baz, Penny, and Agatha sit on the Great Lawn, gazing up at the stars, Simon is grinning.

Baz is laying with his head on his lap, and Simon is playing with his soft hair. Penny is leaning her head on Agatha, who is fidgeting with her dress and pretending that Penny is annoying her. 

“Why are you smiling?” Baz asks, reaching up and touching Simon’s cheek. 

“Because I’m stupidly in love with you,” he responds immediately. He hadn’t been planning to say it, it just comes out. But, that isn’t to say he doesn’t mean it. Once the words touch his lips, he feels how true they are. 

Baz’s eyes widen, then he closes them, smiling like he can’t help it. “You’re such a numpty,” he says, laughing. 

Simon shoves his shoulder a little. “ _Hey._ You love it, though.”

He sits up, giving Simon a kiss on the cheek before wrapping his arms around him and leaning his head on his shoulder. “Yeah. Because you’re _my_ numpty.”

The moment is perfect. Soft and sweet and bright. Simon feels like he knows a lot of things that he didn’t know before. 

  1. He’s in love with Baz Pitch. 
  2. Baz Pitch is in love with him. 
  3. Penny knows pretty much everything there is to know about him and also everything else on the planet. She’s practically God. 
  4. Agatha probably has a crush on Penny. 
  5. All you really need in life is some people who love you. A friend who sits in the grass with you late at night to talk about anything that’s on your mind. A boy sitting beside you, holding your hand, whispering into your ear:



“I love you, too, Simon Snow. You’re like the sun. I can’t believe you fell in love with the moon, but I feel so lucky that you did. So, so lucky, Simon.”

To think this all started with a book. Maybe Simon is wrong. 

Maybe he isn’t as bad with words as he once thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you read the whole thing! Thank you so so much. I spent way longer on this fic than I thought I would, but I had a great time with it. I really hope you enjoyed it. Did you catch all of the references to Carry On and other books? Have a good day/night. And if you're reading this in the early morning hours, please go to sleep. Get some rest. Take care of yourself.


End file.
